Love is the Flower You've Got to Let Grow
by goosequill
Summary: Harry suddenly finds Neville very sexy, and a relationship blossoms. But whats' behind it? Title is a John Lennon quote. Slash, don't like, don't read. Rated for content.
1. Breakfast and Dirty Thoughts

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Neville, harry, Hermione, Ron, and all other Hogwarts characters, places, items, concepts, etc., etc. etc. are the property of the wonderful J,. K. Rowling. No infringement is intended.

Please read and review!

Also, I'm still looking for challenges, so if you have one you'd like to see written, speak up!

Author's Note: this story takes place in our heroes' fifth year. I am, however, using the images of Neville from the fourth film, as portrayed by Matthew Lewis, as I think the long hair looks cuter.

Harry walked down the Hogwarts corridor between Hermione and Ron, headed for breakfast. The morning winter sunlight streamed through the tall arch windows, creating hazy patterns on the stone floor. Their footsteps echoed and mingled with those of the other students as they made their way to the Great Hall.

The trio sat down at the Gryffindor table, towards the far end. Neville was already there, reading a book on Herbology. The lanky, black-haired boy looked up and waved as they sat down. He closed his book and began to eat a bit as the others grabbed food from the wide platters on the table. He picked up one of the large pitchers of juice.

"You want some juice, Harry?", he asked.

"Yeah, thanks, Neville.", Harry mumbled.

Neville poured a goblet full of juice, and handed it to Harry. He had emptied the jug, and so grabbed another one to give to Hermione and Ron. He continued to eat, munching absentmindedly on a piece of bacon.

Harry too began to eat. He filled his plate, and began to talk with his friends about the upcoming Quidditch matches, and the classes they had that day. He noticed the juice tasted a little funny, but thought nothing of it.

As Neville was saying something about Professor Sprout's plans for the Herbology projects, Harry found himself looking at Neville's mouth. His lips, more precisely. Neville had lovely, delicate lips. _Oh, God I'd love to kiss him_, he thought. _Wait, what? What the hell was that?_ Harry shook himself.

"You alright, mate?", asked Ron, puzzled.

"Yeah, fine.", Harry said, "just feeling a bit queer."

Hermione started to say something about Herbology, and Neville took a drink of his cocoa. As he put it down, a bit of chocolate was left on his lips. _I'd love to lick that off for him, _Harry thought. He gave a start. _What the hell is going on? Why on earth would I want to lick chocolate off of Neville's lips?_ Then he realized he was licking his lips. _Oh my God. I like Cho! Cho! Not Neville! Maybe I'm just delirious. I haven't eaten much. Maybe that's it._

He reached for a piece of bread, at exactly the same time as Neville was removing one from the basket. Their hands brushed. Harry thought he was going to explode. He had to get out of here. Now. He stood up.

"Well, Neville,", he said nervously, "I hate to say it, but I have to love you-, er leave you right now. I have to go find some books for classes later today."

And he dashed off. Hermione looked after the running boy with a look of befuddlement, as she noticed his stack of books laying on the bench where he had just been sitting..

Meanwhile, Harry was running as fast as he could back to the Gryffindor common room. He sped past Fred and George who were concocting some mixture by the fireplace, and threw closed the heavy wooden door of the dormitory behind him. He threw himself down on the bed.

_What happened?_ It wasn't that he had a problem with gay people, it was just that he never thought of himself as gay. He _wasn't _gay! He liked Cho, for God's sake. He didn't like Neville. Not that way. He had gone all batty over Cho last year, and had been so jealous of Cedric. Now Cho was available and he had been waiting to make a move.

He looked up at the ceiling, and sighed. It was probably just some kind of stress problem. Merlin knew he'd been under a lot of stress lately. Who'd be surprised if his hormones started acting up?

He sat up on the bed, feeling much better. As his eyes wandered around the room, still messy from the boys' morning rush, they hit a pair of Neville's briefs. _I wonder what he looks like in those?_ He mused. Then he blanched. _Oh, no!_ He flopped back on the bed.

Just then, there was a light tapping on the door. It was cautiously pushed open, and Harry raised his eyes to see Neville's shaggy head poke in from outside. _Oh, Great._

"Harry?", came the hesitating voice.

"Mmm?", Harry replied miserably.

"Are you alright? You seemed kind of odd at breakfast."

"No, I'm fine.", Harry murmured. _Please leave. Please. Please don't come in. Please._

Neville opened the door a bit more, and walked in. He approached Harry.

"You sure? I know you're under a lot of stress and all…"

"Yeah, I told you, I'm fine.", Harry said. _Don't sit down, don't sit down!_

Neville sat down on the bed next to Harry.

Harry closed his eyes and willed himself not to look at him. If he looked at Neville… _No. No, I won't!_

"Harry…", Neville's voice began tenderly.

_Please don't touch me, don't touch me_.

Neville's hand stroked Harry's bare forearm. Harry felt a thrill rush through his body. His eyes forced themselves open, and feasted on Neville. Those beautiful eyes, that shaggy black hair, those sensuous lips…

Harry launched himself onto Neville, tangled his fingers in those curly locks, and attacked those wonderful lips with a mad fervor. After a second, Harry pulled himself and threw himself back onto the bed.

"I'm sorry, Neville. Just go away.", he said weakly.

"Harry…", Neville whispered tenderly. He pulled the other boy up and kissed him passionately.


	2. Trees and Kisses

As classes let out after the last period of the day, Neville hurried away from the main body of students. He quickly walked the rolling hills of the Hogwarts grounds, making his way to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He threw his books down at the root of a gnarled old tree and climbed up the ancient trunk. This was his favorite place.

He nimbly ascended the wide, firm branches up to the topmost boughs. From here he could look out from the leaves and see an astounding panorama of the school and grounds.

Neville leaned back against the broad trunk and sighed. Harry's kisses seemed to still tingle on his lips. How sweet they had tasted. _Bittersweet_.

From an inner pocket of his rove, Neville took out the empty phial he had sequestered there for the entire day. Scrawled in spidery handwriting on the bottle was _Crushed Nightroses_. Neville heard the words in his Herbology books echo in his mind. _Consumption of Crushed Nightroses by a human, wizard or not, will produce immediate and permanent (unless canceled) feelings of attraction and, after a period, love in the subject, for the preparer of the potion. These feelings may only be negated by direct action of the preparer, who must…_

Neville threw the phial as hard as he could into the forest, hearing it crack on some stone or root. He had concocted the plan over the summer, having read about the potion in one of his Herbology texts. The mixture was rarely attempted, being notoriously difficult to make, but Neville had done his best. He had secretively ordered the preparation of Crushed Nightroses, and then brewed the liquid in secret the night before. He had then doctored the pitcher of juice and given it to Harry. And then… Everything had gone perfectly. Totally according to plan. Harry thought he was absolutely sexy, and would soon, according to the textbooks, be madly in love with him. Already Harry was beginning to show signs of it. He hadn't stopped staring at Neville once during the day, and it was with difficulty that Neville prevented the other boy from dragging him into a broom closet after Transfiguration.

Everything was perfect, thus far. _But why aren't I happy?_ Neville asked himself. He didn't feel right. He had had a crush on Harry for years, ever since the eleven year-old boy had disobeyed the rules to save his Remembrall for him. The image of Harry's windswept face, so gallant and brave as he brought back the golden sphere was forever etched into Neville's mind. Last year, during the second task, seeing Harry in those swimming trunks, Neville had come close to fainting. His crush mingled with hero-worship to become a powerful idolization. He worshipped the other boy.

Neville dreamt of Harry, dreamt of scenarios, dates, encounters, Harry's smile, those green eyes. He couldn't keep the boy out of his head. He had fantasized about something like this for five years now. So why wasn't he ecstatic, he asked himself.

_Because it's not real_, he thought unhappily. _Harry doesn't _really_ find me attractive_,_ he doesn't _really _want to kiss me_, _and he won't _really _love_ _me. It's all an illusion, all a bunch of crap that came out of a bottle. He doesn't want to be with me. I forced it on him. It's almost like rape. I can't do this. It's not fair to him. It's not fair._

But another voice in his said, _but he's soooo beautiful. Just one date. It can't hurt. Then you can cancel the spell. Just one._

_It's still not right_ replied his conscience.

_So? How'll he know? He doesn't care; he's in love with me right now._

_No, he's not. He thinks he is, but it isn't real._

_Who says it's not real? At the moment Harry is in love with me. He will remain so until I decide otherwise. Until then, he has eyes for no one else, and is completely batty over me. This, according to the textbook is a "complete effect, affecting mental, physical, and emotional areas equally and completely." He loves me. That's it. That's reality. That's the truth._

_No it's not. It's reality, but it's not real. He doesn't love me because he _loves me_, he loves me because I slipped him a drug._

_Okay, fine, so it's not _real. _So what? For all practical intent and purposes, he's in love with me, and I've been crushing on him for years now. Why shouldn't I enjoy it, just for a little while?_

_Because you know it's not right. It's rape. It's sexual activities with a human being whose ability to make rational decisions about said activities has been impaired by the effects of certain substances. Substances that I gave him, I might add._

_When you put it that way…_

_You see? I've got to end it. Now. Right now,. I'll go back to the common room, find my book, and figure out exactly how to cancel the spell. I'll explain everything to Harry, and hope he'll forgive me. Yeah. Yeah…_

Mental debate over, and course of action decided, Neville swung himself off the branch, and speedily descended the tree. No sooner had he reached the ground than he was seized from behind, and pulled into a long kiss by Harry.

"I almost missed you after class,", Harry murmured between kisses.

"yeah…", Neville said softly.

"Let's kiss go kiss up to kiss the room of requirement kiss and several kisses you know…" Harry said. He hung his arms around Neville's neck.

"No, Harry, I, I don't want to go that fast." Neville said nervously.

"Come on, love. Please." Harry made puppy eyes and whimpered.

"Harry…" Neville said miserably.

"Oh, alright, only for you, gorgeous." Harry stroked Neville's cheek. "Hey, tomorrow is Saturday. Meet me on the lawn at lunchtime. I'll get the House Elves to pack us a picnic lunch or something."

"Um, er-" Neville began to panic. This wasn't part of the plan!

"Great!" Harry said brightly. He grabbed Neville's hand and led him back towards the castle. He'd start with a picnic, but the way he planned it, he and Neville'd be up to much more by the end of the day.


	3. Potions and Picnics

Harry furtively slid through the dank, dark corridors of the Dungeon level. He ducked behind a slimy suit of armor, and whisked his beloved invisibility cloak over his head. Safely covered, he crept silently towards the imposing double doors of Snape's classroom. It was after midnight, and the corridor as deserted.

Luckily, the tall door stood ajar, and there was just enough room to squeeze through. Harry held his breathe as he wedged himself between the two metal edges. Harry felt himself slowly sliding though. All of a sudden, a piercing grating sound came from the unoiled hinges of the door, it began to slowly and agonizingly open, making a hideous screeching noise. Harry dashed inside, and prayed with all his might that Snape was out, or deeply unconscious.

With bated breath, Harry waited for what seemed like hours. Eventually, when Snape showed no signs of appearing, he quickly made his way to the storage cupboard. He slipped inside, and pulled out his wand.

"Lumos." He whispered.

A glowing orb of golden light emanated from the tip of his wand, illuminating the vast shelves of jars, bottles, and ingredients. Harry consulted the hastily written note he had scrawled on a spare piece of parchment. _Crushed nightroses_.

"Accio Crushed Nightroses." Harry said, hoping it would work and he wouldn't have to spend all night scouring the shelves for the concoction. To his immense relief, Harry saw a large jar floating slowly towards him. He grabbed it, and unscrewed the lid. He removed a fistful of the purple-black petals, stuffed them into his robe pocket, and hastily sent the jar back with the countercharm. Just then, Harry's blood froze. He heard footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Nox." He whispered frantically, and the glowing light faded to darkness. He hurried through the gloom towards the exit. He saw the tall gaunt form of the potions master, walking slowly towards his office. Harry slipped behind Snape, and cautiously tiptoed into the corridor.

From there, he ran as fast as he could to his hiding spot, his sanctum. It was a portrait on the third floor. A portrait of corpulent old headmaster, his jowls falling about his face, slumbered therein. Harry frantically whispered, "Cynicism in all things", and the portrait swung open to admit him to his hideout. Here, he had provided himself with the necessities for his plan.

He opened his bookbag, and withdrew the Herbology textbook he had swiped from Neville's trunk. He opened to the page he had marked, and read the instructions. Quickly, he busied himself with the preparations, and set to work.

The next morning…

Saturday morning dawned brightly, light streaming through the stained glass windows and brightening the interior of the castle. Harry left the Gryffindor Common Room and crept out into the hallway. He stashed the flask of potion he had brewed in a small nook behind a suit of armor, and continued down the corridor to the stairs.

He went down into the basement, to the Hogwarts kitchens. There, he found house-elves bustling to and fro, mixing, cooking, preparing, etc, etc, etc. He located Dobby, who he found as doting and subservient as ever.

"Dobby, d'you… d'you think you could get together a picnic lunch for two. For this afternoon. With, er, with a thing of pumpkin juice and a thing of butterbeer." Harry knew that Neville was not a fan of butterbeer, though harry himself loved the beverage.

"Of course. If Harry Potter so desires, a picnic lunch there shall be." Dobby bowed to Harry, and strode off to fix the lunch in question.

"Thanks, Dobby!" Harry called. Thus prepared for the afternoon, he walked upstairs to the Great Hall.

He sat down to breakfast, and, happy in anticipation, contentedly piled his plate high with food. He was delightedly tucking in as Neville walked in. Neville , seeing Harry, hurried over to him.

"Morning, love." Harry said brightly.

"Morning…" Neville mumbled distractedly.

"Something wrong, Nev?" Harry said, concerned.

'Yeah, um… I have to talk to you about something, something kind of… important."

"Let's talk about it during the picnic.' Harry said. "I have to go see McGonagall about the Transfiguration essay. I'll meet you on the front lawn at one, and we'll have our picnic."

"Oh, umm… okay." Neville said. Harry kissed him on the cheek, and hurried out of the Great Hall. _Shit_, Neville thought. _Shit_. _What was I thinking? I should have just told him. Shit!_

Unbeknownst to Neville, Harry did not go to Transfiguration. Instead, he retrieved the vial of potion from its hiding place, and concealed in his robes. He then went to his room, where he waited anxiously for lunchtime. After several hours of reading and studying, he crept down to the basement, where he found Dobby proudly packing up a sumptuous picnic lunch. The basket closed itself up, and the House-Elf presented it to the wizard.

"Thanks, Dobby", Harry said, and he hurried into the nearest bathroom. He opened up the basket, and grabbed the flask of pumpkin juice. He opened it, and poured in a liberal amount of the concoction. Just as the recipe had described, it briefly colored the juice dark red, then returned to its normal color. Everything was ready.

Harry climbed the steps, and walked outside. Neville was there, pacing nervously. Harry kissed the other boy on the lips, and took his arm. Together, they set off towards the secluded glens near the lake.

Inwardly, Harry laughed. The way he had things planned, the sandwiches in the basket weren't the only things Neville would be putting in his mouth that afternoon.


	4. Lunch and Bliss

Author's Note: Sorry about my long absence. I'm back now, and I hope to get my open stories back on track, and get some new ones going. I'm also looking for slash challenges. Let me know.

The two boys walked, hand in hand, down the rolling hills of Hogwarts' grounds, towards the placid lake. Harry was upbeat and irrepressibly happy, Neville hardly so. They skirted its rippling edges, reaching the far side. There they found a secluded, private glen, beneath the shade of several fir trees.

Harry set down the picnic basket, which began to unfold itself and set out fine china plates, stacked with cold cuts, vegetables, and fruits. A loaf of bread, a tureen of steaming soup, and two flasks, one of pumpkin juice, one of butterbeer, completed the meal. The two boys sat down, and took the already laden plates.

Biting into his sandwich, Harry watched Neville take a long drink out of the flask. He smiled to himself. _Perfect_. It wouldn't be long now. He hummed a little as he helped himself to an apple.

Neville swallowed a lump in his throat as he forced down a bite of celery. He took another swig of pumpkin juice. He swallowed, hard, and cleared his throat. _Now or never…_

"Harry, I- I- I have to talk to you about something. Something very important", Neville stammered.

"Can't it wait?" Harry whispered, as he set down his sandwich, and moved closer to Neville. He put his hands on Neville's shoulder's and began to maneuver his way towards those delicately curved lips.

"No- no- no, I'm very afraid it can't. Harry- HARRY, PLEASE!" Neville almost shrieked.

"Okay, okay, fine. What's so bloody important?", Harry said, pouting.

_God he looks so adorable when he does that_, Neville thought. _Stop that! Focus, Neville! This is important. Get over your damn hormones and spit it out!_

"Well- um, I, um- I- er, well…" Neville stuttered.

Inwardly, Harry smiled. He could tell the potion was beginning to take hold. He took a slow bite of the apple, and sensuously licked his lips. He thought Neville was about to faint.

"I- um –er –ah…" Neville was drowning in his hormones. His mind was a swirling fog, he felt lightheaded. He swallowed nervously, and opened his mouth to try one more time.

"Shhh…" Harry whispered seductively. He leaned forward and took Neville's open mouth with his own. He buried his hands in Neville's curly brown hair, and pushed him down onto the brocaded picnic blanket. Setting his body over Neville's, he continued his assault on the boy's lips. Neville was dumbfounded at Harry's sudden attack. For all of a split second his mind registered a protest, and then his common sense took hold and he began to reciprocate.

His mind on fire, Neville's mouth and tongue gave as good as they got as Harry and he made love by the lake, surpassing every one of his fantasies. Harry's weight on his body was a pleasant sensation, and he felt the pounding of Harry's heart as the raven-haired boy's chest pressed his own. Neville's arms came up and wrapped themselves around Harry, hugging him ever tighter.

In between kisses, Neville managed to gasp, "Fuck- I love you, Harry!"

"I love you, too!" Harry panted back, and returned to Neville's lips. The prone boy was emitting moans that drove Harry wild. He began grinding his hips into Neville's, both boys fully erect. Lost in the raging hormones and body heat, Harry was dry-humping Neville beneath him, dark hair tossing.

The friction of denim on denim soon became too much, and Neville, letting out a strangled scream, gasped "Harry, I- I need to come."

Harry grinned ferally, "I thought you'd never ask!" Harry pulled Neville up into a sitting position., and busied himself with the other boy's jeans. Neville's breath hitched as Harry undid the button and zip and pulled the trousers down a bit, exposing Neville's body to the cold winter air. Harry smiled at him. "Lay back", he whispered.

As Neville reclined, Harry eased down Neville's jeans and white brief, revealing a fully erect cock. Harry took a deep breath, grinned at the prone boy, and lowered his mouth onto Neville's member. It didn't take long before Neville came, shuddering and moaning with pleasure. This was a feeling unlike anything he'd ever had, every thought process stopped dead in its tracks as his mind exploded with joy. Harry leaned back, his face plastered with an ear to ear smile. Neville sank back into the blanket, seemingly boneless.

Harry laughed, "Uh, Neville…"

"Mm?"

"Would you mind…?"

"Oh, yeah… you bet" Neville started up. He pressed Harry back down, and unbuttoned the other boys jeans. He pulled them down to find a pair of silky black boxers. These removed, he was faced with the most magnificent sight of his life. As he swallowed Harry and felt him in his mouth, Neville's thought process was something like this: _HOLY FUCK! I'M BLOWING HARRY POTTER! HOLY FUCK! HOLY FUCK! _And so on… Harry came in short order, and both boys were feeling euphoria on a level beyond their best fantasies.

The boys smiled at each other weakly. Their breath rose as fluttering steam in the crisp winter air. High above them on the copses nearer the castle, they could see students and teachers gathered around the massive bonfires, sending up sparks into the pale winter sky. Even from a distance, they brilliant white gleam of salamanders clambering in and out of the flames could be seen. Neville lay back, staring up at the sky. He watched as the pillars of thick smoke spiraled into the clouds. All thoughts of potions, nightroses, and plots had vanished from his mind.

Harry shifted, and then relaxed, laying back into the warmth of his lover. He nestled into the comfortable embrace of Neville's arms. He felt marvelous. The exhilarating air shocked his lungs, and he felt alive, really alive. Everything was pure bliss. Except for the little voice of guilt in the back of his mind that wouldn't be quiet.


End file.
